


Hard Coded

by WrC



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Barcode AU, I'll try to remember and update these with every chapter, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lots of fluff to make up for that, M/M, Realistic Barcode AU, some popular/nerd dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-24 19:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7519580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrC/pseuds/WrC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has a barcode on their wrist that is the key to their full genetic profile. The way society uses it has spun out of control, and Hiccup is having a hard time because of it. For one his code claims he's straight, while he most certainly isn't, and his dad keeps setting him up with girls. He's trying to keep the numbers and symbols on his wrist a secret, afraid of what other people think, in a society where your barcode is everything. Meanwhile, he meets a surprisingly kind baseball player, who might just make things bearable for him again.<br/>---<br/>A modern, more realistic take on the classic Barcode AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> When writing, I always ask myself the question: are you describing the most interesting part of their lives? In this case, two instances are competing for the title 'most interesting'. I want to tell you both. I refuse to upload a fic while it's still incomplete, however, for the fear of never being able to complete it, and thus create what I hate most - a great yet unfinished story, seemingly forgotten by the writer, much tot he frustration of any reader.
> 
> But writing both parts will take time. A lot of time. You are about to start with part 1, which has taken me more than a year to write...
> 
> To solve this problem, I've turned the story into two parts. By turning part one into something that can also be considered stand-alone, I can comfortably finish it and upload it for your enjoyment while I maintain the freedom to work on other large projects in the meantime.
> 
> That said, I hope you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please consider leaving a comment or clicking that cute heart button ;)

 

Hiccup's pencil gently moved across the thick paper, barely touching it. It traced the outline of a face ever so lightly, almost invisible, but enough to guide Hiccup for the harsher strokes of an inked pen. Or perhaps acrylic paint after all. Or he could go out of his usual comfort zone and try watercolours, but then ink would of course have to wait a bit longer. Hiccup hadn't quite decided on his approach yet.

Art was one of his favourite subjects, even though his genetic code would label him as a 'conservative thinker' - not very creative and great at physics and maths. Although it's true he was also good at those, he didn't love it. Not in the way he loved to come up with an entirely new world and transfer it to paper or canvas with paint and brushes. Or charcoal; that worked really well for dark and ominous dragons.

No charcoal today though, that was for sure. It wouldn't do justice to the smile Hiccup was trying to capture, or the bright blue eyes. Today was not the time for ominous caves or mythical creatures. Mrs. Thiana, Hiccups rather eccentric art teacher, had decided on painting a real model. She'd arranged for her nephew Jackson to sit in their middle on a stool and be pretty.

Hiccup peeked past his paper at the white-haired boy. Jup. Still handsome. Sometimes someone would ask him to smile, and he'd flash a toothy, slightly lopsided grin. Hiccup would feel his cheeks heat up at that, even though he wasn't even smiling at him.

Jackson - or Jack, like most called him - was well known within the school. Even though he wasn't exactly part of 'the popular crew', he was a pretty big deal in the sports department. He was known to swim and jog often, and the swimming crew had begged him to join them at the start of this year. Jack chose baseball, however, much to the dismay of the swimming club, and he became the top player within a year. His batting was only rivaled by Kozmo, a pitcher from the only other high-school in Berk.

Hiccup didn't fail to notice how all these physical activities showed, despite the loose shirt Jack was wearing at the moment. In fact, there was little he failed to notice about Jack. He didn't mind the chance to stare at the guy and take in every little detail without the danger of being called out on it. The blue shirt with a big smiley, the wild, white hair, the tight skinny jeans that hugged his ass. Hiccup saw it all.

Not that he often stared. It wasn't like he had a stupid crush or something. No, he just liked to admire Jack from a safe and comfortable distance. And really, he could draw anyone for anatomy practices, but why not choose a handsome sports-jock if you have the choice?

He also saw the occasional glimpse of black lines on Jack's wrist. Like everyone else, he didn't try to hide the barcode on his wrist. Unlike Hiccup. That code held a lot of information about you, and that was no-one else's business in Hiccup's opinion. So he always wore a leather bracelet to cover up the lines, which then earned him plenty of weirdo-points with his classmates.

Hiccup was done with the initial sketching faster than his peers. He had moved on to the finer details, and with still 10 minutes of class left, he finally decided on how to paint it. Watercolours would be the way to go. It was going to work best with those beautiful blue eyes.

Carefully, he started with the background colour for the shirt. The tip of his tongue poked between his lips, but Hiccup didn't even notice. When he was almost done, an unexpected voice broke his concentration.

"That's pretty damn good!"

Hiccup could barely stop his brush from ruining Jack's face with a blue stripe. He looked up and stared into the same face he'd been admiring just a few minutes ago.

"Uhm, thanks..." Hiccup felt his cheeks heat up. He hadn't expected any praise form his model.

"I'm Jack." The white-haired teen extended a hand, which Hiccup shook tentatively. He wondered what he'd done to earn the attention of one of the best sportsmen in the entire school. It couldn't just be his painting. "You're Hiccup, right?"

The brunet nodded.

"I just saw the table Mr. Sanderson promised to put up, with the pairs for the science project. We're a duo."

Well, that explained the attention. Hiccup wasn't quite sure how he felt about it.

"I have practice after school today, but I'm free tomorrow. Shall we work on the project after school?"

Hiccup nodded and Jack left quickly, saying he was already running late for training. The brunet didn't even hear it when Mrs. Thiana complemented him on his painting. His mind was too preoccupied trying to process what he'd just heard. He quickly grabbed his phone and checked his school-mail. Lo behold, he had a message. He was indeed paired up with Jackson Frost. Tomorrow, they would hear more about the actual project.

 

#

With a gulp, Hiccup quickly grabbed his things and headed for his last class: maths. Which sucked. It wasn't difficult enough to keep him occupied, and his thoughts roamed freely. Particularly to his new science partner. Hiccup was surprised Jack wanted to work on the project so quickly - they'd even set a date to work on it before they knew what the actual project was. He'd always assumed Jack was a bit of a slacker...

While his maths teacher went on about logarithms, Hiccup grabbed a different book to put behind his maths book. He did so well in this class, his teacher probably wouldn't bother reprimanding him if he even saw the second book.

At least this was interesting stuff. The book was about the underlying coding of the barcode system. Everyone had a barcode. It was put on your wrist within two weeks of your birth, following a full genetic analysis. With modern understanding of genetics, such an analysis could tell virtually anything there was to know about you. It was common belief your genes represent your physical appearance, personality, potential intelligence, and even your likes and dislikes. And all that was condensed into twenty-two 'Code 128' letters and numbers that make-up the barcode.

Of course the full truth was a lot more complicated than that. Firtsly, Hiccup strongly doubted that a genetic profile could tell that much about someone. Some information, sure, but likes and dislikes? That seemed far fetched. Secondly, it wasn't your entire genetic code in those twenty-two digits, like most people thought. The book he was hiding behind the endless equations that were his maths-homework, was about just that: the exact workings of the code represented by the black and transparent lines on everyone's wrists.

Usually, questions concerning the system and the code fascinated Hiccup to no end. On a good day he could go on for hours on how sophisticated this code actually is. How the twenty-two digits were actually a key to a database that was storing all the date instead, for example. Right now, however, he still couldn't focus. Part of him was overjoyed that he got to work on a science project with Jack, but another part of him was scared to death. Admiring someone from afar and drawing him from time to time was one thing. Engaging in imaginary conversations when in the shower that Hiccup knew would never actually happen was also all right. But now he had to actually talk to him, work with him, and be in uncomfortably close proximity of him all the time!

Class dragged on at an excruciating pace. Hiccup sighed with relief when the bell finally rang and he could grab his stuff. Time to go home. To that wonderful, civil place. That epitome of model behaviour. After all, his dad was the mayor. He had to set an example for all of Berk.

While his classmates seemed happy with the day being over, Hiccup couldn't share their enthusiasm. Not that going home was such a terrible thing. It was still his home, and he got around just fine with his dad. The man was a bit stoic, and always working, but that was all. Hiccup knew Stoick still cared about him, and he appreciated that. Besides, Stoick's personal assistant, Gobber, was a great guy.

No, the problem was with the special event that would take place at their house tonight. Stoick had survived another year on this planet, and apparently that was reason for considerable celebrations. A catering would come by to supply the banquet, and countless of well-behaved model citizens and wealthy people would be invited to their freshly painted model home to enjoy a glass of champagne and some nice snacks. There would be fancy dresses, neat suits, a hundred unknown faces, and many, many hands to shake for Hiccup.

He hated it.

He hated large numbers of unknown people, and he hated not having some goddamn peace and quiet in his own house, and he hated all the fake pleasantries the most. He just wanted to hide in his room and wait it all out. Or even better, run to Fishlegs. But his dad would have none of that, of course. Hiccup had to be present, and he had to be on his best behaviour. A true model son. A good example for the rest of Berk, like his father. He had to smile the whole night, shake all the hands there were to shake, and pretend to be having a good time and 'socialize' with anyone else that might be around his age.

What made it even worse was that Hiccup knew his dad would try to couple him to someone tonight. For almost a year, Stoick had been trying to get his son a girlfriend, introducing him to daughters from any acquaintance and associate he could find. Every time he hoped the brunet would want to go out with one of them. He wasn't quite trying to arrange a marriage medieval-style yet, but I was beginning to look like it! Yesterday, over dinner, he'd announced two girls Hiccup's age would come tonight and he wanted Hiccup to meet them, which was obviously yet another pathetic attempt to get him hooked-up.

With a heavy heart and even heavier feet, the brunet dragged himself through the rapidly emptying school halls. His eyes were mainly locked on the floor, following the linoleum pattern without actually seeing it. Even though the halls were almost deserted, he still managed to bump into someone. His backpack slipped from one shoulder when he was pushed aside by a figure considerably stronger than himself.

"Watch where you're going, cripple!" Snot sneered. Hiccup bit back a snarky reply and mumbled an apology instead, shrugging his backpack back on. It took all his self-control not to start talking back with high levels of sass - that would only make things worse. He quickly stepped past the asshole, ignoring another comment or two. When he finally reached his locker, he quickly dumped everything he could afford to leave behind. Less in his backpack meant less weight to carry with him on his bike.

Even though his father was the mayor, he didn't like spending money where he didn't have to. And in his stoic opinion, a car for his son was in the 'unnecessary spending' department. That would be fine of course, if Hiccup was allowed to get a job and save money to buy his own car. But he wasn't. He had to 'focus on his studies' and apparently there was no room for a job in that. So Hiccup was stuck with his bike and a twenty-minute cycle from home to school and back.

When he stepped out the double school-doors, he was greeted by a gust of wind blowing an annoying drizzle in his face.

Great.

Head ducked, he quick-walked to his bike, only to find out that his tires were both flat. Both valves had been twisted open. Now he couldn't even cycle, making his commute at least twice as long for a normal person. With his stupid leg, it would take him almost an hour to get home.

Could this get any worse?

Stupid question, Hiccup. Of course it could. Halfway home, the rain picked up. It went from annoying drizzle to serious dripping to a wall of water in two minutes. His jacket was no match for these amounts of water, and Hiccup was drenched down to his skin. Everything was wet, clingy, and cold. Hiccup pushed on, mumbling a continuous stream of curses under his breath.

He could barely be more miserable when he finally arrived at home. A catering-van blocked the driveway, so Hiccup had to take a soggy detour over the grass before he could dump his bike in the garage. Not that he could get any more drenched. With his bike parked, he decided his first priority was to get out of the wet clothes, followed by an attempt to get warm again and regain some feeling in his hands, foot, and stump. He dumped his shoes next to the door and went up to the bathroom, leaving a trail of wet drops behind him. Then he peeled off the layers of soaked fabric and dumped them in the corner. Shivering, he dried himself before he put on dry clothes. The thought of a shower was temping, but he knew better. Hot water plus freezing limbs were a painful combination.

Then he had to hang his clothes to dry and take care of the water-trail he'd left, or his dad would scold him for it. When he was finally done and more or less comfortable again, he locked himself in his room for the last few hours of tranquility he could get. With an exasperated sigh, he flung himself on his bed, where he was soon joined by his cat.

"Hey Toothless", he greeted the feline. The black cat walked right over him, headbumped the side of his face, and lay down, half lying on Hiccup's pillow.

"You know you're not allowed to lie on my pillow," Hiccup mumbled. The cat was utterly unimpressed and didn't move an inch.

 

#

"Haymish, lad, you are expected downstairs."

Hiccup groaned at Gobber, his dad's PA. Gobber and Stoick went way back. Even before Stoick was mayor, Gobber would be around the house a lot, helping out whenever he could. Especially after Hiccup's mother died, Gobber has been a invaluable member of the family - he's the only one that can cook a decent meal. Then, with Stoick as the mayor and Gobber looking for work, the man quickly landed the job as Stoick's PA.

Even though Stoick was often at his office, making ridiculous hours, Gobber made sure to be home and about to at least sort of take care of the house and it's other occupant: Hiccup. This resulted in Hiccup seeing Gobber quite a bit more than his actual father.

"Stop calling me Haymish. How many times do I have to tell you?"

The sharply dressed PA just smiled, as always. Hiccup sighed and asked how he looked. After Gobber fixed his bowtie, which he was rather good at despite the prosthetic hand, he went downstairs to join the 'fun'.

Their house was filled to the brim with people. Every colleague and associate of Stoick was invited and the living room, dining room, and kitchen had been transformed to hold all these people. It was very crowded, which made Hiccup very uneasy.

What was even worse: everyone was carelessly showing their barcode. No-one gave it a second thought when their dress shirt moved up enough to expose the black lines on their wrist. As if it didn't contain the key to their entire genome. No-one cared they put themselves on display so much. Hiccup had never understood that careless behavior. He subconsciously fidgeted with the watch that was currently hiding his code. His numbers were for his eyes only

"Ah, there he is!", Stoick boomed. "Come over, Hiccup. I want you to meet Rachel and Tina Thorston." Hiccup shook their hands politely. Their respective fathers were quick to excuse themselves and tactfully left them alone.

Hiccup tried his best to at least appear like he was enjoying himself. The catering had outdone themselves this year. There was a ginormous amount of delicious looking food - from salad to roasted lamb to quiche - but Hiccup didn't feel hungry in the slightest. He managed to take some polite bites while his father was looking and left it at that, all the while racking his mind to find a way out of this shit. He'd hoped for some awkward moments, a died-down conversation, and then finding an excuse to move on, but the girls were immune to awkward silences. They just kept talking and giving him friendly touches that Hiccup didn't like at all. At first, he'd tried to look interested and reply with a polite 'uhuh' and 'yes', but he'd long given up on that. The amount of mouth diarrhea these ladies were producing was even more astounding than the banquet size, and they didn't need his responses to keep going.

It was too crowded in their home and Hiccup sorely needed some air. He excused himself and went outside. There were no guests brave enough to battle the evening chill and he would have been alone... except Rachel and Tina followed him like ducklings trailing after their mother.

"Let's compare our barcodes!" Tina suggested.

Hiccup groaned internally. Yet another completely idiotic bardode-thing. There were countless apps that could scan your code, and then determine whether you were a good romantic match with someone based on your DNA. Every couple did it. If the match was too low, they would usually break up on the spot.

This was, in Hiccup's modest yet somewhat educated opinion, complete bullshit. How could you determine if someone is a good match purely based on your DNA? It's ridiculous! Hiccup knew for a fact the code can be plain wrong when predicting your sexual orientation, so why would matching like this work?

"I don't think so," Hiccup deadpanned.

"Ah come on why not?" Rachel drawled. "I'm sure we'd make a good match."

By Thor's beard she actually winked at him. Meanwhile, Tina already had her phone out and scanned her own barcode. One bleep later, it was Hiccup's turn, but he ignored their expectant looks.

"I said no, ladies."

Suddenly, the girls were really, really close. He could feel Tina's breath on his lips when she spoke.

"What, are you afraid that-"

Something snapped. That was very much the wrong thing to say right now. Hiccup took a big step back.

"I'm afraid that you have been picked with an intent to match my code by my medieval style father in some laughable form of arranged marriage - or in this modern day and age arranged 'dating'. No, shut the fuck up for a second 'cause I've had it with you two! You two are the most obnoxious, annoying, stupefying sheep I've ever seen. All you do is bleat about your boring, perfect little lives and how 'we would be a great match our barcodes are so good oooh'," Hiccup mocked, imitating Rachel's voice. He saw he was going to far, but there was not stopping now. "Use those fucking brains of yours for once. I mean, shit, when was the last time you had a thought that wasn't aimed at pleasing your old man or the chihuahua he's going to buy for you?! Tell you what, why don't you stamp a fucking code on that sad excuse of a dog and scan that, I'm sure you'd match great."

Rachel was about to start crying. Great. Hiccup turned around and headed for the house, but Tina blocked his path. Unlike her shocked sister, she was seething with rage.

"Apologize!" she hissed. "Now!"

"Get out of my way!" Hiccup shoved her aside. A waiter, however, had noticed the three guests outside and had decided to bring them a drink. The man came through the door right when Hiccup pushed Tina away, who collided with the waiter. Glasses with champagne went everywhere. Tina gasped in shock. She was drenched in champagne, her probably very expensive red dress ruined.

Hiccup practically ran to his room.

He ignored Gobber when he came to his door to ask why he wasn't downstairs, and turned on some loud music to drown out his voice. His cloths were thrown in a corner and he lay on his bed in comfortable sweatpants, still angry about the two girls. He started texting with Chris, a.k.a. Fish after that unfortunate fishing incident, to tell him what'd happened.

As he was arguing with his best friend what he should say to Stoick, his father's voice boomed through is door demanding a word with him. His heart dropped. If his father was mad enough to come to the door himself, this night was far from over...

 

#

Jack was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His phone was turned off. The damn thing vibrated every 10 seconds and it was driving him nuts. He just wanted some damn peace and quit to think.

He'd never given this Hiccup much thought before. He'd seen him around, of course, during science and PE. He hadn't failed to notice the adorable amount of freckles on the guy. It was so cute; Jack just had a thing for freckles. But he hadn't even talked to him before today.

When he thought back to art-class, he couldn't help but smile. Hiccup's painting was by far the best. The rest hadn't even finished sketching, but the brunet was way ahead of them, as if he'd already drawn Jack countless times before. As if it just came natural to him. It was gorgeous already, and Jack couldn't wait to see it finished. When Isla had asked him to model for her class, he'd been hesitant, but any and all hesitation were now completely gone. It made jack wonder what other surprises this quiet teen had in store.

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. It was his father, North.

"Astrid is on the phone."

His girlfriend was the last person Jack wanted to talk to at the moment, so he said: "Tell her I'm taking a shower or something." North raised an eyebrow and said just that.

"He's taking a shower... or something. I'll tell him you called." The big, bearded man hung up and remained in the doorway, looking at his son expectantly.

Jack rolled his eyes. "What?"

"Is everything okay? Do you want to talk?"

Jack sighed. His father always meant well and there wasn't a problem Jack couldn't talk to him about. But right now his caring curiosity was just annoying.

"Yes. No. Not really. We'll figure it out dad, don't worry." He gave North a fake smile.

North nodded and decided to leave it be. "Dinner in ten."

That night, Jack tried to write his chaotic feelings about Astrid into a song. He aimlessly strummed his guitar, searching for the right melody, but it didn't quite work.

 

#

Hiccup lay on his bed again, cellphone in hand. Toothless was lying against his feet, purring. That had been one hell of an argument with Stoick. Apparently Tina's dress was completely done for, and she'd cut her foot on the broken glasses, while Rachel had been so distraught they decided to leave immediately. Stoick was not amused.

He'd scolded Hiccup for his rude behaviour. He'd ranted on how Hiccup never appreciated what he tried to do for him. The gifts he'd been given, the beautiful opportunities others could only dream of. How Hiccup was so spoiled that he didn't realize the privileges he had.

All the while, the brunet had wanted to tell him the full and hard truth. That he was gay and that he couldn't care less for all those stupid girls Stoick was setting him up with, and that he didn't even want these privileges to begin with. But he didn't. He couldn't. The words just wouldn't pass his lips. So instead, he screamed that he wanted him to stay out of his business and leave him alone.

They'd continued screaming at each other until Gobber tactfully reminded them there was a party going on downstairs, saving Hiccup from further fighting.

H: I swear he drives me nuts with all these coupling plans

F: Maybe you should just tell him and be done with it

H: Yeah right. That'll make things better.

H: And now I have this project with Jack...

Hiccup still had mixed feelings about the science-thing. Hiccup couldn't deny he felt attracted to the guy. Hell, he was the main reason Hiccup had come to realize his sexuality. Not only was he decidedly hot, but there was something else about him... Hiccup couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he felt drawn to it.

He realized that was probably as superficial as attraction to someone can get, but that was okay... right?

Hiccup was also painfully aware that he didn't actually know Jack. Hell, he might just be a huge asshole, and that was a scary thought. And even if Jack turned out to be a cool guy, he was straight. And Hiccup was so scared he would do something stupid, or that jack would want to see his barcode, or, or...

With an exasperated sigh, Hiccup sat up to pet Toothless. At least he never judged Hiccup. Or rather, he judged Hiccup just as much as everyone else; he was equally unimpressed by all humans. At least that was a simple relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pitcher Kozmo is a reference to Pitch Black (Kozmotis Pitchiner was his original name, before he turned evil).
> 
> Jack refers to his aunt as Isla, which is the name of the voice actress of Toothiana.
> 
> Hiccup refers to Fishlegs as Chris, which is also the name of his voice actor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it just my opinion or are chapter summaries always little spoiler devils that no-one really needs besides the story summary?

The next morning, Hiccup was fretting what clothes to wear for at least 20 minutes, until Gobber firmly reminded him he was going to be late for school. The man mumbled something on how unusual it was for Hiccup to care about his wardrobe and Hiccup had to agree with him on that. He cursed himself for acting so anxiously. It wasn't as if he was going to have the date of his life today; they were just going to work on a science project.

Still, he couldn't help it. His stomach felt queasy so he skipped breakfast. Not that he still had time for a proper breakfast anyway.

Science was his second class of the day, where Mr. Sandman finally explained what the project was about. All duos had been assigned a topic related to renewable energy. Hiccup and Jack had to make an essay and a presentation about 'blue energy' - the energy that is released when salt and sweet water mix. It was an interesting topic. Even if Jack turned out to be an ass - which part of Hiccup still feared - the project would at least be cool enough.

As the day progressed, his other classed couldn't quite keep Hiccup distracted. He no longer felt like he'd swallowed a swarm of bees though. Maybe he was just getting used to the idea of having to work with Jack, or maybe he was excited about the project itself like the nerd that he was. Either way, the afternoon didn't loom over him anymore like a distressing raincloud that was about to burst and drench him to the bone.

Who knows. Maybe he could even enjoy the fact that he was getting a chance to know Jack a bit better.

When the last bell rang, he rushed to his locker to put his books away.

"Good luck with Jackson", a familiar voice quipped. Hiccup practically jumped two feet in the air. "Bad concience?" Fishlegs laughed.

"Just a bit nervous, is all," Hiccup responded, his heart still pounding. "And why would I need luck? No project is a match for my genius intellect."

"So humble."

Hiccup spun around and found Jack casually leaning against the lockers, a lopsided grin plastered on his face.

"Oh, u-uhm... hi." Hiccup gave him a toothy smile. The swarm was back. And it brought friends.

"Let's go to the library."

Hiccup just nodded, not daring to speak lest his nerves showed in his voice, and he followed the white-haired teen.

"I hope you understood Mr. Sandman," Jack said, laughing. "'Cause if I'm honest, I gave up after the word 'thermodynamics'".

Hiccup shook his head, smiling. "It takes more than a fancy word to scare me."

Their time at the library proved to be a waste of effort. They were interrupted every 10 seconds. Some jock saying 'wassup' to Jack, to which he was forced to reply with 'not much, you?' as if it were some unwritten law. A giggling girl walking up to Jack to ask him if he wanted to go out, which Jack always declined with a kind smile. He was already dating Astrid, and everyone knew that since they were one of the best matched couples in the school, but still the girls tried.

After the thousandth interruption, Hiccup was wondering what those jocks were even doing in the library to begin with. This wasn't getting anywhere. Thankfully, Jack had the brilliant idea to go to his place so they could work in private. The other teen found this concept a bit unsettling. He was still getting used to being in Jack's direct proximity and talking to him. The idea to go to this guy's house and probably work on the project in his bedroom had Hiccup's stomach impersonate a gymnast performing a series of somersaults worthy of a golden medal. Jack, on the other hand, was oblivious to this and was dragging Hiccup towards the parking lot.

On their way there they had a few more run-ins with friends of Jack. A ton of high-fives and handshakes later, they finally walked out the front door.

"Will you follow me in your car?" Jack asked. Embarrassed, Hiccup admitted he didn't have a car. He seemed to be the only one in his year that didn't own one.

"Oh. Well, ride with me then!" Jack took him to an old, orange mustang. "She's old, but the drive is so smooth. My dad is quite handy with cars, so together we make sure she purrs like a happy kitten."

The inside of the car was clean; the leather was smooth and well maintained. Hiccup took a deep breath and got in, willing the bees to calm the fuck down.

They did. Somewhat.

When Hiccup put his foot down, he heard a farting noise. Jack burst out laughing and Hiccup's face turned red like a cherry.

"I swear that wasn't me!"

"Hahahaha! Oh yeah I know," Jack managed to say. "I forgot there - hihi - was a fart cushion on the floor! Oh god your face!"

Hiccup looked down and saw that, indeed, his foot was on a blue fart cushion.

"Seriously?"

"Sorry man, I just have simple humour. Farts. Always funny. I didn't meant to embarrass you, of course." He looked over to a still slightly flushed Hiccup. "Come on, it was a joke, cheer up!"

Hiccup still felt like a fool, but he smiled too. "You have no idea what you've brought upon yourself, Jack. Now I could just let one rip in your car and I could blame the cushion."

"Oh shit, I hadn't thought of that." Jack was surprised that Hiccup could joke like that. So far, the brunet had looked like a miserable puppy, much to Jack's dismay. "Ahem. Anyway. Farting aside, let's get going."

They sat in silence for a little bit, until Jack asked: "So that painting you're working on in class. It's really good. Do you paint often?"

"Yeah, I do."

"What do you paint?"

"I always paint fantasy related things. Lots of dragons. Their scales and colours are really cool to do, and it's great anatomy practice as well. And let's face it - they're plain fucking awesome."

"Are you gonna turn me into a dragon?"

"No, you're more like... an elf."

Jack knew enough classic fantasy to see the hidden compliment in that; elves were usually described as beautiful.

"What makes fantasy so cool?"

As he'd hoped, Hiccup started to talk at length about tolkienesque fantasy. In truth, Jack didn't particularly care about which fantasy was cool to paint, why it was so cool, and which techniques went well with what. He just wanted Hiccup to talk and be comfortable. Open up a bit more. Listening to Hiccup ramble about the things he was passionate about was fun enough on it's own. Nothing was more beautiful than a happy human being, Jack reflected with a warm smile.

"All right, here we are. Casa di Overland." Jack lived in a pretty standard house. White, not too small but not too big, semidetached, complete with driveway, garage and front lawn with some bushes. Hiccup was pretty sure there would also be a patio with barbecue around back - it struck him like that kind of place. "My dad won't be home until six, so we can work in private here."

Did Jack even realize how suggestive that sounded? Or maybe that was just Hiccup's mind.

The white-haired teen led the way to his bedroom, where they settled behind the desk. The room was white, with one dark blue wall and a light blue ceiling. Jack furniture was white wood and on his bed was blue bedding. One might be tempted to assume blue was, in fact, his favourite colour. There was a big window facing the street, and there was a collection of snow globes in the windowsill.

"But really, I do love that painting you're making," Jack said while booting up his PC. "If you're done with it, I ehm... I'd love to buy it from you. Or something." Hiccup's eyes went wide in surprise. Never before had someone offered to buy his 'art'. He mumbled a thank you, which Jack found utterly adorable.

"I'm no Van Gogh or anything..."

"I don't like Van Gogh's style," Jack persisted. "Yours though..." They had a project to do, however, so he let it go and got to work.

While Jack was trying to understand the full scope of the assignment (how the hell do salt and sweet water create energy?!?!), Hiccup had a hard time focusing. He kept looking at Jack instead of paying attention to what he was saying. Multiple times, he barely managed to bluff his way out of a question. He scolded himself and tried to focus on their research.

Blue energy. Salt concentrations. Yes. Beautiful eyes. Wait, no! Project! Power plant in the Netherlands. Renewable resources. That hair looked so soft though... he was sorely tempted to touch it. No, no, no! Focus! Thermodynamic relations! But God, look at that jawline...

"What do you think, Hiccup?" The other teen gave him a questioning look. "You weren't paying attention, were you?" There was a slightly accusing tone to his voice.

"N-no, I was. Blue energy and stuff."

"I asked whether you wanted to stay for dinner. It's getting late." For the second time today, Hiccup turned scarlet. Busted.

"It's better if I go home, I think. Let's just ehm... finish this up." Hiccup glanced at the equation they'd been working on. Or rather, the one Jack had been working on. "I think I saw the solution to this in our book. Do you have it around?"

"Sure." Of course Jack knew Hiccup hadn't been focused, but he was impressed at how fast he could pick up where Jack himself got stuck. He reached for the book on the shelf just next to his monitor. As he did so, his sleeve crept up, showing his barcode. Hiccup audibly gasped. He'd never seen Jack's code up close before. Next to the usual numbers and letters was a small, black asterisk: the sign of self-harm. Jack calmly grabbed the book and smiled sheepishly.

"It's not what you think. Honestly. I guess I could have told you about it." Hiccup looked at him questioningly. How could this mean anything else?

"Do you know how the asterisk system works?" Jack asked. Hiccup nodded; of course he did. Any book about the barcode system covered it. The physical signs of depression combined with the response to pain will trigger a reaction in your skin-cells next to the code. A black star appears next to your numbers. The pigment response is hard coded into the DNA of those skin-cells; it cannot be undone once activated.

"Well, then you know false readings are, you know, a thing. I just happened to be feeling a bit down when I got in a car accident. It was in that orange Mustang. She got through it just fine, but I broke my wrist. A broken bone plus not feeling to great equals... an asterisk. I know, sounds weird, but it's the truth."

"Why don't you hide it?"

"Why would I? There is nothing to be ashamed of. It's just a malfunction."

Hiccup nodded. "I think barcodes are stupid anyway. The focus on what your DNA can tell about you is completely ridiculous; it's just inflated statistics. It's not like we actually understand the human genome. And don't get me started on the sociological effect of asterisks and that stupid barcode matching. Sometimes the ignorance and blind trust of the general population makes me sick and-" Hiccup cut himself off, realizing Jack probably did care about barcodes and code matching.

"I should go home. I'll finish the equation tonight."

Jack gave a reassuring smile and refrained from any comment. He figured Hiccup had a good reason to feel the way he did, even though it was an immensely unpopular opinion. Hiccup practically fled downstairs, where Jack's dad offered him a ride back to school, so he could get his bike.

On his way home, Hiccup kept cursing himself for fucking up like he had. Not paying attention to anything but Jack is one thing. But saying stupid things about barcodes? He should have kept his unpopular opinions to himself, like always. He was convinced Jack though him a weirdo now...

 

#

 

The next afternoon was Art-class again. It was the first time Hiccup saw Jack after what happened yesterday, as the boy was still modeling. Hiccup was doing his best to stay hidden behind his canvas and avoid eye-contact. It was probably better if he kept his distance from Jack as much as possible. He focused on the painting, adding colour to the handsome face, barely looking at the model.

When the bell rang, he wanted to bolt from the classroom. His dirty brushes, however, did not allow that. Furthermore, they'd agreed to continue on their project today.

He turned around to take his equipment to the sink and almost bumped into Jack.

"That... is AWESOME!" Jack exclaimed with a big grin. Hiccup gulped and quickly walked past him to go clean his brushes. Jack kept praising his work, apparently having forgotten about Hiccup's code related rant. Hiccup just washed his rushes intently, not knowing what to say. Acrylic paint went down the drain. White, blue, black, and red mixing to some sort of mud-brown.

"You can have it if you want," he mumbled.

"What? For real?" If Hiccup had been able to tear his eyes away from the brushes for a second, he would have seen an absolutely exhilarated Jack, smiling a big, goofy smile. Instead, Hiccup just nodded and continued his vigorous scrubbing while Jack practically bounced up and down behind him. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you! This is so cool!"

Hiccup could feel his cheeks heating up. The more praise Jack poured over the brunet, redder his face, and then even his neck, became. He scrubbed harder and harder.

"Come on, it's not that great," Hiccup deadpanned.

"Are you kidding me?! It is! I'm a true art critic, so I should know," Jack said in an mockingly posh voice. "Also, I think they're clean."

"What?"

"Your brushes,"Jack pointed out, barely containing his laughter. Hiccup looked down and realized they were cleaner than ever before. He quickly put them away and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Right. Time to work on our project."

Jack nodded and led the way.

"I talked with Mr. Sandman. We were scheduled to do the practical bit on Friday, but I have an extra training then for the upcoming match. So instead we get to do our measurements now. I hope that's okay with you."

They'd reached the lab section of the school. The lights were on and the door to lab 0.02 was open, but there was no-one there.

"Where's Sandy?"

"He'll be back in half an hour; we can already start setting up." He caught Hiccup's doubtful look.

"We haven't even prepared yet..."

"Don't worry. He said it wasn't difficult."

When Hiccup read what they had to do, he realized Jack was right. Making an energy cell was apparently pretty straight-forward. And so they got to work. Jack built the set-up using an old lunchbox, duct tape, and a set of membranes, while Hiccup prepared the chemicals. Two beakers with salt solution and one with sulphuric acid. He picked up two beakers - one with salty water and one with acid - and turned towards Jack...

... right as Jack turned towards Hiccup with a finished set-up in hand. They collided, causing Hiccup to spill the acid all over his hand. He yelped in shock and dropped the beakers, quickly wiping his hand on his labcoat. The glass shattered on the floor. Jack cursed and pulled Hiccup to the sink. He swiftly opened the tap and held Hiccup's hand under the streaming water.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, concern all over his face. Hiccup nodded no - it didn't even sting. Then, Jack saw Hiccup's leather bracelet was decolorising. Some acid must have gotten on it, maybe even under it. So he did the sensible thing and took it off. Hiccup's heart nearly stopped. Hic face concerted in horror and his hand shot out to stop Jack, but he was too slow.

Jack had seen what was underneath. He was gaping at Hiccup like a fish on dry land. Jack felt like he'd been punched in his stomach, and all he could think was: poor Hiccup.

Tentatively, he reached out. Hiccup flinched and stepped back, clutching his arm.

"I'm sorry," Jack started. "I-"

Without a word, Hiccup turned around and bolted from the room. Tears burned in the corners of his eyes, but he refused to cry. Not yet. Not here. He heard jack call after him, but he didn't stop. He just wanted to keep running forever. Run away from everything. Run away from his stupid code, and his stupid dad, and his stupid leg. Run away from Jack and that sad look on his face. Just run and run and run and leave it all behind.

Of course he couldn't. His leg was already killing him and he wasn't even at the front door yet. There was no way in hell he could run away from anything, let alone his life.

Hiccup slipped into the nearest toilet. At least he was alone here. Panting, he locked the door behind him. He sat down on the toilet seat and rested his head in his hands.

 _Why did he have to see that? He didn't need to know I'm a broken person_. Hiccup cursed himself over and over. Jack shouldn't have seen that. Everything was ruined now.

A sob escaped him. He gave in to the tears and cried.

#

 

When Hiccup ran, Jack had wanted to go after him. The arrival of Mr. Sandman, however, had prevented that. Only after cleaning up the mess and offering an acceptable explanation (in which he had to avoid the real reason Hiccup had left), was he allowed to leave. He'd expected Hiccup to be gone by then, but when he walked by the toilet, he could all but miss the sniffling coming from the other side of the door.

It broke his heart.

When he saw the asterisk, Jack had been more sad than surprised. Sad, that Hiccup had gone through enough shit to hurt himself. Sad, that he was so ashamed of the little star on his wrist. Sad, that Jack couldn't help him, and sad that he'd broken down in the restroom, crying, with Jack just outside the door wanting to reach out but not quite knowing how.

When Jack got home he went straight to his room. He fell back on his bed with an exasperated sigh. How was he supposed to write a song for Astrid like this? She'd asked him for a song for her birthday, and he would love to comply. But whatever he played, it just didn't feel right. Everything sounded off, like playing Iron Maiden on a ukulele. There was just so much going on in his mind, there was no way he could focus on actual songwriting. And maybe... maybe it was because Astrid hadn't really been his top priority lately...

More than anything Jack wanted Hiccup to know that he didn't have to be ashamed of himself. He knew damn well everyone has some skeletons in their closet. Everyone has a history. And he was determined to help Hiccup come to terms with his. To do that, he should probably start by telling the truth...

Screw Astrid's song. Hiccup was in greater need of one.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Hiccup didn't show up at school. Jack missed him during PE, his seat remained empty during history, and he was nowhere to be seen in the hallways, no matter how hard Jack looked. Astrid commented how distracted he was, looking all over the place. He pretty much ignored her; his worries concerning the brunet were by far more important than his girlfriend at the moment. He was worried sick, and all sorts of doom-scenarios were unfolding in his head.

Later, he even asked Chris if he'd seen Hiccup today, to which the answer was no. Apparently Hiccup was 'sick'. Chris seemed oddly nervous to be talking to Jack, and he refused to give Hiccup's address no matter what Jack tried. He eventually gave up on harassing Hiccup's best friend, although that didn't mean he'd given up all together. There is more than one road to Rome.

As Mr. Carter was droning on about probability and distributions, Jack was texting under his table. He was asking a friend of a friend who knew a guy that might know Hiccup's address. Far fetched and a lot of effort for such a little thing? Probably. Subtle? Not at all. Everyone would know he wants something of Hiccup now, which in turn can start all sorts of weird rumors. But it worked, and that's all that mattered right now.

Guilt was eating away at Jack. He was at least partially responsible for this, whatever 'this' was, and he wanted to help. Hiccup had to understand this was not something he should be ashamed about in front of him.

When the bell rang, he rushed out, got his coat from his locker, and sped to the parking lot, hoping he'd avoid Astrid. Unfortunately, she had beaten him to his car. Her expression was ominous, her tone dead serious.

"We need to talk."

"Can't we do this later? I really need to go." He tried to open the car door, but she put a firm hand on his.

"No. You haven't been yourself and you refuse to tell me what's wrong. I want you to talk to me, now."

Jack sighed. He honestly didn't want to do this now, but she left him little choice. His study partner would have to wait for a little bit longer...

 

#

It was already dark before jack finally pulled into Hiccup's driveway. With a heart rate that would only be considered normal during a 100-meter sprint, he rang the doorbell. A bald man wearing a casual suit and boasting an impressive mustache opened the door. He looked at Jack questioningly.

"Yes?"

"I-I'm here to see Hiccup."

The man shook his head. "The lad isn't feeling well. Come back another time." When he tried to close the door, Jack jammed his foot in front of it. This got him an irked look from the man.

"I'm a friend from school. It's important, it'll only take a minute."

The man's frown deepened. He put a prosthetic hand on the door, readying himself to shut it with more force if necessary.

"You will leave. Now."

Jack gulped and gave in. He'd rather not loose a foot himself, and this door-and-burly-man-combination looked like it could do the trick. He wisely took a step back. As the door closed, he noticed an open window on the second floor... next to a drainpipe.

_Should I...?_

Jack pulled on the pipe. It didn't groan... much.

_YOLO, right?_

He briefly scolded himself for even thinking those words. Then, he proceeded to climb up the drainpipe anyway. It wasn't his best idea ever, that much was certain. About halfway, the metal contraption produced an ominous groan. Further up, it suddenly shook and Jack was sure he'd be breaking some bones very soon. He held on for his dear life, and, miraculously, didn't fall. His guardian angel must have been in a very good mood.

Finally, he reached the window. He climbed in and found himself in what was probably a guest room. The bed was made, but there was no indication whatsoever that the room was in use by someone. No clothes, no personal objects as far as he could see. Carefully, he snuck through the door, onto the lit hallway. Muffled music came through the door opposite of him. Jack didn't take the mustachioed man he met before for the Flogging Molly type, so he figured that's where he had to be. He knocked.

"I'm not hungry, Gobber." Bingo. He knocked again.

No response. Another, more insistent knock.

"Fine, come in."

Jack entered. Hiccup yelped in surprise, which in turn startled his cat. The black feline jumped up in shock, meowing loudly. It landed on the floor, peeked at Jack, and hissed, his tail thick and sticking up straight. It's opinion on Jack's presence was made very clear.

Hiccup was lying in bed, under his covers. He was propped up against the headboard with a couple of pillows, his laptop on his lap. He hit spacebar and the music stopped.

"What are you doing here?" The brunet glared daggers at his uninvited guest and involuntarily covered put a hand over his exposed wrist.

Frankly, Hiccup looked like shit. Jack felt a pang of guilt and swallowed hard.

"I need to talk to you." Jack deliberately avoided 'we needed to talk', because he didn't assume Hiccup would want to say anything. That was perfectly fine; Jack didn't mind to do all the talking, as long as he got to tell his tale.

"No you don't. Go away."

The white-haired teen shook his head and stepped closer till the black feline loudly announced his displeasure with his close proximity. Jack tried to ignore it.

"I can't leave. Not until you hear me out."

The brunet continued to glare at him. "How did you even get in here. I doubt Gobber let you in. That's trespassing, isn't it?"

Jack ignored that comment too and kept a determined look on his face. "I don't know what happened to you. I don't know what drove you to hurt yourself, and I don't know what made you so shy and reserved. All I can do is guess about your past, and that's fine. God knows we all have some skeletons in our closet and I'm not here to pry into your soul as if I'm Freud himself. I only want you to hear what I have to say. Because..." Jack sighed. "You're not as alone as you might think."

"Why would I listen?" the other teen asked, still somewhat defiant. Who the hell did this guy think he was, barging in here like that after being the cause of so many worries on Hiccup's end, only to start some weird speech?

"Because I want to help you. No, don't interrupt me again. Remember what I said about my asterisk?" Jack held up his wrist, showing the little black mark. "That was complete and utter bullshit. Granted, a false asterisk is possible, it's just not what happened to me." The white haired teen rubbed his wrist awkwardly and swallowed. He'd never told anyone this before. Only some of his closest family members knew, and he always made sure to keep it that way, knowing everyone around him would start seeing him differently otherwise.

He'd told the lie so often he'd almost started to believe in it himself. Yet here he was, picking at old wounds. Wounds that time had already turned into tough, pale scars; he prayed that they wouldn't start bleeding all over again.

"You see..." Jack paused again, and Hiccup didn't try to interrupt him for a change, catching on to the fact that this was a big deal for the other teen. "My little sister loved ice-skating. Winter was by far her favourite season. As soon as the lake froze over just a little, she'd be standing right at the edge, ice-skates in hand." He couldn't help but smile fondly at the memory. "One day, she heard on the radio that it was great weather for ice-skating and she was begging me to take her to the lake. Our parents weren't home, but hey, I was with her, so I figured we'd be all right. I checked the ice first. It didn't crack, it didn't groan, and it held me just fine. Hell, I even jumped up and down a bit. I slipped, much to her delight. Olivia had such a cute giggle."

Hiccup had a bad feeling about this. He'd been to Jack's place, and there was no Olivia there. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out where this story was headed.

"She got to a spot I hadn't been yet, closer to the middle. There was a weak spot. She fell in." The white-haired teen fought to keep his tears at bay. The pained look, the biting on his bottom lip, the slightly wet eyes staring at nothing in particular - Hiccup saw it all. With a wavering voice, Jack continued: "That cracking sound. Her scream. It haunted me for years afterwards, whenever I closed my eyes at night. Sometimes it still does. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'll have that nightmare tonight." He cursed himself for confessing that part as well - this was supposed to be about helping Hiccup, not his own current problems. He grinned bitterly at the brunet in an attempt to lighten up, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"I blamed myself for what happened. I should have kept her closer to the edge. I should have checked every bit of ice myself. I should have, but I didn't, and now she's dead." Jack tried to collect his thoughts and figure out how to go from here. This wasn't exactly a speech he had prepared. Meanwhile, Hiccup stared at his wrist. At the black asterisk that both caused and originated in so much pain.

"I got depressed. I withdrew myself from all my friends, and... I don't know, I guess it was a mixture of not caring about myself and trying to punish myself for letting my sister die. I-" The teen tried to find the right words. It was probably better if he wasn't too graphical. "I hurt myself. Let's stick with that."

With a weary sigh, Jack sat down on the very end of the bed. Toothless kept his distance but didn't object; he was too busy headbutting his human's hand for comfort.

"Why are you telling me this?" Hiccup whispered.

"Because I felt bad for lying about my asterisk. It's so much easier than telling the truth, but I had to tell you. I want you to know that you don't have to be alone. That there is someone you can talk to. I won't claim to know exactly how you feel, but I think I can imagine. And above all I know that having someone extend a helping hand can make a world of difference."

They sat in silence for a while. Toothless had pushed himself underneath Hiccup's hand, right on top of the laptop, and he was purring contently. The low hum was the only sound in the room until Hiccup broke the silence.

"I tried to kill myself."

Jack nodded, too afraid to ask why. He wanted to know, but he needed Hiccup to tell him on his own. The brunet was visibly trying to find the courage to continue, and Jack put a hand on his good leg, just to let him know he was there and it was okay.

"I lost my leg and my mother in a car accident, on the ride home from a fair. Drunken driver crashed into us. I don't remember anything. At first I was having the day of my life, and next thing I know, I wake up in a hospital bed one foot short.

"I missed her so, so much. I can't even begin to describe it. But my father's words were a thousand times worse. Fuck, that drowned out any other pain I might have felt." Jack tried not to show his surprise at the language - this was the first time he'd heard the brunet curse. "It was after I'd returned from the hospital. He was alone in the living room, or so he thought, looking at her picture and he... he..." Hiccup swallowed hard and bit his lip. "He said: 'if only he hadn't begged to go to that stupid fair, you'd still be here'. He was blaming me!" The brunet broke down in sobs, covering his face in his hands. Jack moved over and sat down next to Hiccup, putting an arm around the crying boy, who gladly leaned into him and snuggled against his chest. Unintelligible mumbles, dampened further by Jack's hoodie, were met with soft words of comfort. The brunet's small frame shook and hiccuped, letting out the held-back sadness within, and Jack held him as best he could. He gently stroked the unruly, brown locks and rubbed across Hiccup's back, telling him it was okay over and over again.

After a few minutes, Hiccup regained his voice. His face was still buried in the crook of Jack's neck, but he continued. "I figured dad would be happier with me gone. So I tried... I tried to hang myself. My dad found me and called an ambulance. The hospital had me meet a psychiatrist while I was there. She was a very nice lady and we talked twice, before I was sent home. My dad didn't allow any more sessions once I got out and I never learned why. But she did give me Toothless, so I had something to talk to and wouldn't feel so alone. He was still a cute, fluffy kitten back then." Hiccup couldn't help but smile a little, and he disengaged his face from Jack in order to give the feline a little rub. "When I finally got back to school, I was picked on for the obvious reasons. I was lonely. I have no friends and a father that hates me and only tries to couple me to girls as if I'm a political bargaining chip. All I have is a cat." Toothless gave an indignant meow. "No offense, bud."

"And then you saw my asterisk. Finally I was making a friend and that friggin star ruined it again. I felt so ashamed. People always attach too much value to their barcodes and having this" - he motioned to his wrist- "makes me feel like I'm second rate. Like I'm broken. And it's right there on my arm in plain sight, for all to see. It makes me sick." Tears started to flow again and Jack held him tight.

"You're not broken. You're an amazing person, Hiccup."

Jack continued to mumble encouragements and comforts until the sobbing got less and the tears stopped again. Gently, he wiped a tear from Hiccup's cheek. The brunet blushed at the tender gesture.

"And you're not alone either. Not anymore." Before the brunet could reply, Jack's phone started ringing. The other teen cursed and looked who it was. Astrid.

Instead of picking up, he turned the phone off. Hiccup gave him a questioning look. "I broke up with her," Jack clarified. "I really don't want to talk to her right now."

Hiccup stared at him, incredulous. "I thought you were such a good couple?"

"Well, you had a point the other day. There is more to it than just barcodes. In fact, I'm bisexual, but that stupid code never matches me with guys, only with girls. Don't get me wrong, Astrid is an all right gal, but she was driving me nuts. It wasn't working at all." He sighed. "Besides, you're more important right now."

Jack tried a slightly different topic to move away from Astrid and keep Hiccup talking. "So, your dad tries to set you up with girls?"

Hiccup nodded and rolled his eyes. "Yes. Daughters from business associates and the like. I hate it. All those girls are either snobs or have an IQ comparable to that of your average primate. I'm not even into girls!" He realized what he'd said and his face turned scarlet, which in turn made Jack laugh.

"Oh man you should see your face. Relax man, I won't tell anyone. But why didn't you tell your dad? My parents know I'm bi."

"My barcode says I'm straight. And to my father, the barcode always tells the absolute truth. No way he would accept if I came out to him."

Jack nodded understandingly. His chin rubbed against the side of Hiccup's head, so the brunet felt it more than he saw the gesture. Hiccup was becoming more aware of their unusually cosy position - they were still snuggled up together from Hiccup's earlier outburst - and it was a bit embarrassing. But he wasn't about to move either. It had been a very long time since he'd felt so much comfort in someone's presence and touch. It felt good. Besides, Jack smelled kinda nice.

"I'm sorry", Hiccup mumbled into Jack's hoodie.

"About what?" the white-haired teen raised an eyebrow.

"About just now. I was a bit of an ass to you while you were just here because you were concerned and you wanted to help."

"It's all right," Jack reassured him. "I forgive you." He had a pretty good understanding of how Hiccup was feeling - the embarrassment, wanting to hide the truth from the world. Jack was glad they were at least past that now.

He felt Hiccup tense.

"You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"Of course not!" Jack gave the boy's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I won't tell a soul." Hiccup relaxed again and Jack happily kept his arms around the scrawny shoulders. Toothless lay down half on Jack's lap and half on Hiccup's, deciding that he wanted to be part of that cuddle as well.

Suddenly, someone knocked at the door. Jack quickly retracted his arm and created some space between them to avoid an awkward situation.

"Come in." It was Gobber with a plate of food. The rugged man scowled when he spotted Jack.

"How did you get in here?!" There was a dangerous undertone in his voice, giving Jack instant goosebumps.

"It's okay", Hiccup told Gobber. "Could you leave the food on my desk?" The man's eyes didn't leave Jack for a second as he put down the plate and left again.

"I should probably go," Jack announced.

"I'll see you tomorrow at school We do have a science-project to finish after all." The brunet produced a little smile, and the sight filled Jack with delight..

 

#

The next day they finished the project at Hiccup's place. Jack still got the evil eye from Gobber, and Hiccup couldn't pass up on the opportunity to pull Jack's leg when he figured out why. "You were trespassing after all," the brunet commented with a quasi-stern look. "You're lucky he didn't set the dog on you."

"YOU HAVE A GUARD DOG?" Jack stared at the teen across him with eyes wide in shock. Had he, unknowingly, escaped a bloody, painful, and way too early demise yesterday?

"No we don't, but your face just now was priceless!" Hiccup wheezed with laughter. Jack scowled as if offended, but in truth he was happy too; seeing a truly cheerful Hiccup was about as rare as water in a desert, and Jack cherished each and every one of those smiles.

"This is my reward for doing that bucket load of work?" He motioned to the papers in front of them, making Hiccup blush. It was true that jack had done most of the work on their project. While he lay in bed pouting, the other had finished everything but the theoretical background parts of their essay.

"Sorry that you ended up doing all the work," Hiccup mumbled.

Jack just shrugged and told him not to sweat it. "This was at least doable. The theoretical part though... yeah I couldn't make heads or tails of that. I lack your big brain."

And so they wrapped up the last bit of their essay, delivering what Hiccup would consider not quite a masterpiece, but a very decent report on 'green energy'. Wednesday afternoon they returned to the lab to finish the practical part and gather a bit of necessary data. Hiccup mixed the chemicals again and this time avoided any chemical spills. When they were almost done cleaning up, Jack casually asked: "So, do you have any plans this weekend?"

The brunet looked at him, a bit confused.

"No, why? We're done with the project, aren't we?"

"I know..." Jack wondered if school really was the only thing this guy generally thought about. "But I thought we might just, you know, hang out?"

The possibility obviously hadn't occurred to Hiccup. Dumbfounded, he stared at Jack. He figured they'd be done after the end of the project and jack would go back to being the popular, unreachable, white-haired demigod and Hiccup would still be... well, Hiccup.

"It's okay if you don't' want to," Jack assured him with a slightly sad smile.

"No! I mean yes! I mean-" Hiccup sighed, and Jack giggled. "I mean I'd like to."

The other teen put on his award-winning grin and said: "Cool! Is it OK if I pick you up at twelve? There is something awesome I want to show you."

The brunet nodded and Jack grabbed his bag and ran off, saying he was running late for practice. Hiccup was left to wonder two things. One, why did Jack ask him to hang out? Was it because he pitied Hiccup? Because he thought he was lonely and needed company or something? That angered the brunet more than he'd like to admit; he didn't intend to be a damn pity-case.

But then there was the second mystery: why the hell did Jack just run away with a face redder than freshly squeezed tomato juice?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear the next chapter will be much fluffier than this O.o


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff to compensate for the previous chapters; Jack tries to arranges the sweetest date ever.

Hiccup didn’t like to admit it… but he was getting pretty nervous over nothing. Again. He checked his watch for the millionth time in then minutes. It was 11:45. Jack would be there in fifteen minutes. He paced his room. This was ridiciulous. They were just going to hang out together, probably at Jack’s place or something.

It wasn’t like he was going on a date or anything.

With a frustrated sigh, he sat down on his bed, only to get up again a second later to resume his restless pacing around the room.

11:47

Frig fragging frigglesticks. This was stupid. He checked himself again in the mirror. A dark green T-shirt, black skinny jeans, and simple sneakers were his choice of wardrobe today. Picking it had taken him only half an hour - something that only seemed to happen when he was doing something with Jack. It apparently put him into over-think-everything modus, and he was driving himself nuts.

He literally jumped when the doorbell rang and he almost beat Gobber to the door.

“Haymish, the lad’s back,” Gobber said with a scowl at Jack, who did his best to avoid Gobber’s stern stare. Hiccup doubted they’d ever get along after that little break-in stunt. Not that it mattered; Jack wasn’t here for Gobber’s luscious beard.

“Hi… Haymish,” he said with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Don’t you dare, snowflake.”

Jack raised his hands defensively and laughed. “All right, all right. Are you ready to go?”

“Do I uh… need to bring anything?”

“Good spirits and maybe an appetite?”

“Bring him back before curfew,” Gobber interjected. Hiccup blushed and told him to shut it, because he didn’t _have_ a curfew. He also said not to wait on him for dinner and herded Jack out the door before the mustachioed man could embarrass him any further.

They got in Jacks’ old Mustang and took off. At first Hiccup expected them to just go to Jack’s place, but they soon deviated from that route.

“So… where are we going?”

Jack just grinned mischievously. “You’ll see!” Hiccup rolled his eyes, but at the same time his heart fluttered. That smile should be illegal. A weapon of mass seduction on that scale might actually be prohibited by the Geneva treaty.

Hiccup didn’t realize their destination until Jack parked the car and turned off the engine, looking at him expectantly. Sure, he’d seen the signs advertising ‘Knighthood’, a medieval themed fair, but he’d never dreamed that was where they were going. Even when Jack parked the car, he still didn’t quite dare give in to the hopeful excitement.

“Figured it out by now or should I spell it out?” Jack teased.

Hiccup just stared in disbelief. “Really?!”

“Yes? Unless I’ve grossly misread about 100 consecutive signs.”

“Awesome!”

Relief washed over Jack. He’d guessed Hiccup would love this, but he hadn’t quite been sure. Seeing Hiccup light up like that was the most gorgeous and honest confirmation Jack could have gotten.

Of course he wouldn’t tell the brunet this had been a gamble, and that he had a Plan B, C and D into place. Instead he just put on a smug smile.

“I knew you’d like it!”

“But ehm… I didn’t know you liked medieval stuff as well?” Hiccup said. He was still working under the assumption that this was definitely not a date, and thus it would make no sense to go to something only he was into.

“Are you kidding me? Knights with huge swords and, if the flyer is to be believed, Celtic music! What is there not to like?” Jack said as they got out.

A cheerful tune on a lute welcomed them as they walked across the gassland-turned-parking-lot, heading for the entrance. At a big wooden gate flanked by two watch-towers, two knights in full plate-armour were standing guard. Above the heavy-looking doors was a banner with “Welcome to Nighthood” on it. Hiccup almost started skipping. His enthusiasm was adorable and a bit contagious. Jack’s heart skipped right along with the other’s springy steps. 

* * *

 They spent the entire afternoon roaming the fair. Line after line of tents in all shapes and sizes filled the usually boring, empty fields. There was a grill, flooding the fair with the distinct smell of charcoal fire and seasoned chicken. There were also grilled chestnuts, baked ham, and sweet potatoes, just to name a few of the culinary highlights. All drinks were served in baked clay mugs to add to the atmosphere. You were supposed to return them after use, but Jack made one ‘disappear’ into his bag for Hiccup.

Of course there was no lack of entertainment either. Jugglers and acrobats moved through the crowd and the boys witnessed some good ol’ jousting. Not the obviously fake show-kind either. Nothing but full-force jousting, smashing lances to tinder against thick metal shields.

Jack was especially impressed by the live music - all on traditional and historically accurate instruments; or so someone told him. His knowledge on antique instruments was nonexistent, so he took the woman’s word for it. He was particularly impressed by the lute player. He’d never seen someone go daft on a lute before in what was a seriously bad-ass lute-solo. He’d clapped till his hands were sore.

All the while Hiccup was enjoying himself with an enthusiasm usually only rivaled by ten-year-olds on Christmas eve after having too much sugar. Jack used his phone to take tons of pictures of giddy teen, as well as some selfies with both of them.

And then there was the smithy.

“Jack… are you sure this is a good idea?”

The white-haired teen pressed his phone in Hiccup’s hands.

“Of course! It’ll be totally bad-ass!” He grabbed the absolutely massive sword with two hands. “You ready for the photo?”

Hiccup readied the camera and nodded. Jack made a valiant effort to lift the huge slab of metal, much to the amusement of the blacksmith that was standing next to him. He heaved and puffed and pulled, and managed to lift the sword just a few inches before his arms gave in and the thing hit the ground with a deafening ‘clang’.

“Maybe you’ll want to take a picture with this instead.” The blacksmith offered him a tiny little dagger. Hiccup roared with laughter and took another photo of a blushing and pouting Jack with the wee little knife before he could hand it back to the blacksmith.

“I’m so getting back at you for that.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you bit off more than you could chew!”

“Who makes a sword that big? I thought it was a light prop or something!”

“You should have seen your face when he gave the dagger!” Hiccup giggled. “Man those are great pictures.”

“I’m so gonna delete those.”

“Too late, I already send them to myself while I had your phone!”

“You devious little-”

Hiccup jumped out of reach and skipped ahead, laughing back at Jack over his shoulder.

In between more taunts and photos with knights, they talked about pretty much anything. Hiccup asked a bit more about Jack’s family, who refrained from asking the same questions to Hiccup, knowing that ‘family’ would be a slippery slope. Hiccup didn’t miss that fact, but he didn’t mind at all; he was more than happy to discuss the cheerful things in life, such as his blacksmith uncle back in Norway. That caught Jack’s attention all right, especially when he mentioned said uncle was specialized in medieval weaponry.

It didn’t feel like useless chatter for a second. The white-haired boy was really trying to gt to know him. All the nerves he’d felt earlier that morning had disappeared to the back of his mind, pushed out of the way by the marvelous atmosphere here.

If you’d told him two weeks ago that he’d be hanging out with _the_ Jack Frost at Knighthood, he would have called you insane. And if you’d told him talking with Jack was this easy and natural, he would have sent you off to an asylum in an instant.Yet here he was, happier than ever.

“You know,” Jack said with his mouth half full with bread-on-a-stick. “I think we’ve walked around the full thing twice now.”

“Yeah. I doubt there are any acrobats we don’t have a photo of yet.”

“Or any page. Or knight. Or dragon.”

“That dragon was awesome though.”

“Fucking furry.”

“Shut up. I guess we should go home then?”

“We’ve literally seen it all twice, so home sounds good.”

“Or maybe you could try lifting that sword again?”

“Fuck you. You’re not gonna let that go, are you?”

Hiccup laughed. “Nope. Never.”

A short walk later, Hiccup settled into the warm, leather chair of Jack’s orange pride. He sighed contently.

“Thanks,” he said. “I haven’t had this much fun since… since…” He stopped that train of thought right there and rephrased. “Since I don’t know. A long time anyway. So thank you.”

The suddenly very serious tone took Jack by surprise.

“You’re welcome,” he answered sincerely giving Hiccup a warm smile.

They were quiet for a little bit, both wondering what to say next. Jack tried to figure out what the other was thinking, while Hiccup didn’t really know what he was even feeling right now. But the moment passed, Hiccup buckled in, and Jack started the car.

They drove home to the tunes of the new CD Jack’d bought at the fair. The one with that awesome lute-player. Hell, there was a lute-version of Iron Maiden’s _Phantom of the Opera_! Needless to say, Jack was very pleased with his purchase and he hummed along to the ‘medieval metal’.

Hiccup was in a completely different world. He barely heard the music and just stared out of the window without seeing anything. He’d almost slipped up back there. He’d almost said ‘since I went with my mom’. _That_ would have been a mood-killer for sure. And now mixed feelings were warring for his attention. On one hand, he still felt happy and elated, like he’d felt for most of the day. The fair had been great and he’d spend a wonderful day with Jack. But on the other hand he felt incredibly guilty. In some irrational way, it felt unfair towards his mother.And somehow his dad too.

Was that weird? It felt weird.

The result was an aura of doom and gloom and Jack did not deserve that. Especially not after a day like this. Hiccup got angry at himself for feeling so sad when he’d been so happy only moments ago, which then made him feel even more guilty, and beneath it all was a large dose of overall sadness, simply from missing his mom.

He casually looked ahead. Two bright headlights of an oncoming truck took him by surprise. He startled and a strong fear took hold of him, sending his entire body in a full-on state of panic. He screamed.

What if they crashed? Just like last time? It was a ridiculous thought, but that did little to calm his racing heart.

_Please. Not again. Please, make it stop!_

He closed his eyes and bit his lip, willing the tears to stay away. He didn’t want to break down again in front of Jack. He sucked in a ragged breath and tried to hold it, but if felt like he was suffocating.

 _I_ _’m not some wreck Jack needs to take care of, goddamn it! Calm down!_

He didn’t even notice they were no longer on the highway until Jack turned off the engine. Instead they were at on a parking lot at the edge of a forest. Hiccup looked to his left and saw two piercing, blue eyes staring at him. He tried to ask why they’d stopped, but his voice faltered. Those eyes that usually carried the hint of a smile were dead serious, even a bit sad. Hiccup felt as if they were looking right at his soul, straight through his sad excuse of a fake smile.

Despite Hiccup’s best efforts, he started to cry.

Without a word, Jack leaned forward across the middle console and pulled him into a hug. He put his arms around him as best he could in their awkward position, and Hiccup clung to Jack’s shirt, embarrassed to be crying again but unable to help it. Tears streamed down his face and his breathing came in irregular gasps. His whole body trembled, trying to stay upright in a violent torrent of emotions.

He tried to focus on Jack’s soothing voice, the hum in Jack’s chest when he talked. He felt his hand rubbing across his back in slow circles. It didn’t even matter what Jack said. As long as he was there, talking.

Eventually, the brunet started to calm down again. He took a few deep breaths in time with Jack, and then disentangled himself to wipe at his tears.

“Sorry… about that,” he mumbled, his gaze fixed on his lap.

“You missed her.” It wasn’t a question. Jack had stated it very matter of fact-like. The other nodded, still avoiding eye contact.

“Hold on.” Jack got out of the car, fetched something from the trunk, and opened the passenger door. He held out his hand and nodded with his head to the forest. He had a guitar-case strapped to his back.

“Come on. We’ll go for a walk.”

“I… I’m fine now.”  The moment Hiccup said it, he knew that wasn’t quite the truth. And so did Jack.

“I insist. Trust me.”

Hiccup took his hand, and jack helped him get out. He intertwined their fingers and headed into the forest. No words were exchanged. Just a reassuring squeeze and the calm of the forest.

 

 

They didn’t have to walk far to reach a clearing. In the center were two big logs and a ring of stones, creating the perfect spot for a campfire. There was even a basket with wood, covered by plastic. In no-time, Jack had a fire going; he’d obviously known this was here. He then rummaged in the guitar-case and presented Hiccup with a bag of marshmallows.

Slightly incredulous, Hiccup accepted the plastic bag. He scoured the ground for two thin sticks and put the marshmallows on the, then handed one back to Jack.

They sat, watching the fire and roasting their fluffy blobs of sugary goodness, while the sun sneaked steadily towards the horizon. The clouds were painted orange and pink, while marshmallows slowly turned brown.

“Why?” Hiccup asked.

“Because I wasn’t going to continue driving while you were…”  Jack interrupted himself, not quite sure how to finish that sentence. “You screamed at an oncoming truck. You never told me the details of your accident, but I could guess. You were having a great time today, but on the way back, you were thinking of something else entirely.”

“Sorry…”

“There is nothing to be sorry for.” Jack tried to look the other teen in the eyes. “Listen. You don’t need to apologize for anything. Really.”

Hiccup was starting to tear up again and Jack put an arm around him.

“If anyone should apologize, it’s me. I could have taken you somewhere else. I could have taken you _here_. This was my plan B if you didn’t like Knighthood.”

“Your plan B isn’t even in the same ballpark as plan A. No offense.” Hiccup swallowed hard and put his head on Jack’s shoulder. “I… it…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Jack said softly. They lapsed into silence, eating their first round of roasted marshmallows as they were done. The sticks were reloaded, and the roast-process started all over again.

 “You know…” Jack started. “…after my sister, I was terrified of ice-skating. And I hated lakes. I wouldn’t go anywhere near them, especially not the one where she fell in.”

Hiccup felt Jack shift besides him.

“Next winter, I didn’t touch my ice-skates once. There was a 50/50 chance I’d burst into tears when someone even mentioned ice. Every time I’d just think of how it was my fault again, and I would miss her. My newfound fear of lakes must have driven my parents nuts, but they didn’t say anything at first. Then they gently tried to help me get over it, and that only made it worse. I threatened to drive the family apart at a time we needed each other more than ever.” He fell silent for a moment and Hiccup put his arm around his waist, still keeping his head on his shoulder.

“Then came my uncle, Aster. He took me for a ride on his motorcycle; I can’t even remember where he said we were going. But before I knew it,I was at a lake. Not the same one where, you know… A different one. The entire thing was frozen over and there were coloured lights and flags and a hot-chocolate stand with countless children swarming about. The whole shebam. There was even a place to rent ice-skates. It was such a nice spot… but you can imagine that didn’t quite register with me. I was only thinking about Olivia.

“I was terrified. Frozen in place. How on earth could I go and have fun while my sister… couldn’t? It was unfair. It felt like cheating. And my uncle, he just knelt in front of me and hugged me tight. It was cold and I was crying and it sorta hurt my cheeks and he just held me. And then he said something I’ll never forget. He said: ‘Olivia would want you to go skating.’ For an instant I was furious, because how could he say that? But at the same time, I knew he was right. She’d always been so fond of the ice, how could I give up on skating because of her? She’d be so mad.”  Jack laughed. “Imagine that little frown. She’d call me an idiot brother.

“So I put on the skates and started skating again. And you know what? It was actually fun. We had hot chocolate and we took the scenic route home with his bike. He treated me to dinner and didn’t stop the positive attention till I was smiling again.

“How he talked of Olivia - with a touch of sadness but mostly with joy and a smile on his face - opened my eyes. Remembering her brought him joy instead of sadness. I learned how to be happy that day, despite the painful loss.”

“Is that why you brought the marshmallows and took me to the fair? To turn it into a positive experience?” Jack couldn’t have planned this like that, right?

“Ehm… no. I just thought you’d really like the fair. I didn’t realize what that might trigger until we were on our way home. I’m very glad I brought marshmallows though.”

“So am I. Did you ever return to _that_ lake?” hiccup was already cursing himself for even asking, but Jack didn’t even tense. He simply answered.

“Not for another year. I skated around on it once, in honour of her. Never skated there since, but I still visit now and again.” He considered for a moment, and then added: “I make it sound easy. It wasn’t. I stood at the edge, skates in hand, for over an hour. But she deserved one more lap. When I was skating… I don’t know. It sounds stupid, but I like to imagine she was there with me, laughing.”  He gave hiccup a wry smile and hugged him tighter.

“It never goes away, does it.”

“No.” Jack could have added some cliches like ‘you learn to live with it’, but he hated those lines. He’d heard enough of those to deeply dislike them.

He stared at the sticks in their hands. “Hiccup?”

“Hmm?”

“Our marshmallows have fallen off.”

Together they stared into the flames. They were already impossible to spot. Completely burnt down. It wasn’t even that funny, but still they laughed as if it was the most hilarious joke ever; it was just so out of line with the rest of their evening. Hiccup felt remarkably better now, and they both wanted to move to more light-hearted marshmallow-level topics. They started by putting new ones on their sticks, this time keeping a close eye on them so they wouldn’t fall victim to the flames again.

* * *

 

Hiccup hesitated when Jack pulled over in front of his house. Blushing, he bent over the middle console to hug the other teen. Jack was happy to oblige and hugged back, rubbing the other’s back.

“Thank you for showing me it’s okay to be happy.”

Then he was off, waving briefly when he got to the front door, right before he disappeared inside. 

* * *

 

Next Monday was art-class again. The last time Jack would be modeling, in fact. Not that Hiccup was in any kind of hurry; his painting was practically finished. He leisurely dotted the I’s and crossed the t’s, and he was already done putting his brushes away when the bell rang. The rest had been a bit slower and were just beginning to clean up.

Jack came over right away to look at the brunet’s painting.

“That. Is. Awesome,” he said. “You’re so good!”

“And it’s yours, if you still want it of course.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I want it, how could I not want it?!”

Hiccup laughed. “All right, but it still needs to dry. Won’t be ready for transport for another hour or two, three.”

“You’re the best!” Jack hugged him tight and, as he was taller and stronger, managed to lift Hiccup off the ground a bit. Hiccup’s face instantly did a convincing imitation of a red buoy.

Jack grinned and almost kissed him on the cheek, but he was pretty sure Hiccup would literally die of shame if he did that. Besides, he hadn’t really made it clear that he _like_ liked him. Seeing how clueless this boy was, he’d probably have to spell it out loud and clear before he would catch on…

“If we have to wait for it to dry anyway, how about we go for coffee or something? You’re done now, right?”

Hiccup was about to say ‘sure’ when his brain screamed the word _DATE_ at him, and he blushed even harder. He couldn’t look Jack in the eyes anymore, who was starting to wonder if he’d done something wrong.

Hiccup mumbled something unintelligible.

“What?”

“You mean li-” The rest was lost to Jack.

“Still can’t hear you.”

“I said, ‘like a d-date?’” Hiccup was staring at his hands very intently now, feeling like a total idiot for saying it like that. Immediately he came up with 1000 better ways to phrase this uncertainty and sound totally smooth when doing so. But he’d already ruined his chance by sounding as smooth as crunchy peanut butter.

Jack was joining the blush-fest, however. He barely held back the ‘yeah duh, doofus!’ that popped in his head. Instead he was a little bit kinder.

“I’d like that?” It wasn’t supposed to be a question, but that’s how it sounded anyway.

“Really?”

Jack gave in to the impulse and kissed the freckled forehead. “Yes, really.”

This initiated an ‘awwwwww’ from the teacher, who was still there, sitting behind her desk. Jack looked at her surprised, while Hiccup had a distinctly ‘caught’ look. The colourful woman giggled.

“Go on,” she urged, happily gesturing. “I’ll wrap this up when it’s dry, you can pick it up tomorrow. You just look so cute together, and-” They both fled before she could make it any more awkward.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stoick doesn't take Hiccup's relationship too well, and Hiccup has a few shocking revelations of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this takes so long! I'll try to be faster with the next chapter >.<  
> Thanks to Syndeh for alpha-reading this one.
> 
> Art by Rokutsubasa61 on tumblr! She's open for commissions, so go check her out if you like what you see ;)

“No cellphones at the table,” Stoick said with a stern frown.

“Sorry, dad.”

Hiccup put his phone away and continued to eat. His steak was pretty good - thanks to the fact Gobber did all the cooking - but his mind was distracted with other things. Things related to a specific white-haired boy.

“Who were you texting, anyway?”

“Just a friend from school.” A friend who he’d been going out with for a couple of weeks now, but that was on a strict need-to-know basis only. He didn’t want to talk about _that_ , not with his dad anyway.

“Who?”

“Does it matter?” Hiccup gave his father a sarcastic stare.

“I’ve never seen you text this much before.”

The teen thought about that. He seriously doubted that he really texted Jack that much around his father. What was he going on about?

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Humor me.”

The tension in the room was palpable.

“Why are you so insistent? What’s it to you who I’m texting with, it’s just a friend.”

“Just a friend.” Stoick grumbled. “Is it that white-haired lad?”

“Yes… he has white hair.” Hiccup frowned. “How do you know?”

“I saw you kiss him.”

All colour drained from Hiccup’s cheeks, reducing his complexion to something very much like Jack’s hair after a fresh dye. “W-what? I-I never-”

“I was done early and going to pick you up because of the weather. You were already in his car.”

It had been raining cats and dogs today, so of course Jack had offered to give him a ride home. Hiccup had kissed him in the car to thank him… and that hadn’t been just a peck on the cheek either. Good Gods! Stoick had seen that! Hiccup was mortified and scared at the same time. He wanted to go back in time to stop his past self from getting in that car and prevent this all from happening. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. He wanted Jack to do some weird demonic summoning spell that would instantly transport Hiccup to his bedroom.

“Who is it?” Stoick demanded.

Hiccup considered his options. Maybe this could still be salvaged.

“Jack, from the baseball team. We have science together.”

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“A few weeks now,” he confessed. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned coming out, but there was no denying it now. He carefully kept his face neutral, doing his best to appear confident. Fake it till you make it, right? In truth, however, his hands were shaking like little twigs in a hurricane-level storm, right there under the table.

“Impossible. You’re not gay,” Stoick said. “It’s in your barcode.”

“Oh please, my barcode-”

“Don’t interrupt me. This is just some futile rebellious act or something, and I will have none of it. You will break up with this boy immediately.” The bearded man gave his son a frightening look, just daring him to try his patience and see how ugly it could get. It took all Hiccup’s self-control to stay calm and not break down to scream or cry or both. Not yet. He had to face his father head on on this one.

“No.”

One word, yet so hard to deliver.

“No?” Stoick’s frown got so deep it put the grand canyon to shame. “You’re grounded until you break up with him. No phone, no internet except for school, and Gobber will bring you to school and pick you up right after.”

“You can’t-”

“I can. Now go to your room.”

Hiccup fled the dining table with his heart hammering in his chest. He went straight up to his room and slammed the door shut. Toothless startled, jumping a foot into the air and landing on the ground with an angry meow.

Hiccup paid him no mind and flung himself on the bed. A white hot rage boiled inside him. At the same time an incredible feeling of betrayal made him want to bawl his eyes out. He’d know his dad wouldn’t take it well, but actually experiencing it still hurt so much. And now part of him wanted to rigorously redecorate his room by throwing all the furniture around, and another part wanted to hide under the blanket and cry.

Stoick hadn’t taken his phone just yet, so Hiccup quickly told Jack as much as he could. He didn’t get a reply before Stoick came to collect the device.

After that it was just him. No connection to anyone outside his room. No support.

At least no-one but Toothless witnessed his breakdown.

* * *

 

Gobber knocked on the study door and went straight in, not needing to wait for an answer. As usual, Stoick was still working. Preparing for meetings, reading background material, answering countless emails - it was a never-ending stream of work. Not that you’d ever hear the man complain. He knew perfectly well what he was getting into when he ran for Mayor with even aspirations beyond that. He’d told Gobber as much when he’d asked him to be his personal assistant. Gobber had accepted that position not just to help his friend, but even more so to make sure at least someone was taking care of Hiccup too.

He’d address what had happened during dinner soon, but first…

“Courier,” Gobber stated.

The big, bearded man frowned. Gobber had seen that turn into his default expression the last few months.

“At this time? What did they bring?”

“The lad won’t say, he’ll only give it to you. Don’t look like much of a courier to me either.” The bald PA shrugged.

“Let him in.”

Gobber went to fetch the odd ‘courier’. If he was really that, because what delivery boy wears such an fine suit? Gobber was no expert on suit brands - he hated the damn things, it was bad enough he had to wear one - but it looked more expensive than anything he’d ever owned. Add to that the fancy briefcase he was carrying and you have the poshest delivery boy of the century.

The unknown figure wore it with confidence too, as if he was entirely used to this kind of stuff. He looked very unremarkable otherwise. Neat haircut. Clean shave. Your typical banker, including the borderline arrogant smirk. Gobber followed him inside and shut the office door, curious what he had to say to the mayor.

To Gobber’s surprise, the pseudo-courier didn’t say anything at all. He simply took an unmarked, sealed envelope from his briefcase and handed it to Stoick. It was large - the kind that holds A4 printed documents - and not very thick.

“Is that all?” Stoick asked. At least he was just as surprised as his PA. “All the way out here for this?”

The visitor nodded. “Just delivering,” he said. “We hope to hear from you soon.” He glanced at Gobber, nodded at Stoick, and turned around to leave again. Gobber showed him out, thoroughly puzzled by the whole affair.

 

Stoick rubbed his temples, trying to keep the oncoming headache at bay. First that thing with Hiccup, now this… one peek inside the envelope confirmed his suspicion. It was a letter and thin document from _Echelon_ , the company behind the barcode system as it is used today.

It must be a sensitive piece of paper if they delivered it like this. He quickly scanned the letter.

This definitely wasn’t going to help with his headache. They were getting impatient, and had sent technical instructions to make their transition go faster. The script was only a few pages long, but Stoick really didn’t want to deal with this now. He stashed the envelope in a drawer together with Hamish’ phone. He locked the drawer, pocketed the key, and decided he’d done enough work for one day. 

* * *

 

Hiccup lay in bed. It was late, but sleep wouldn’t come. Father sleep had been scared off like a startled deer during hunting season and he’d probably not return to his duties anytime soon. Instead he surfed the glorious wave that was 400 channels of satellite TV, hoping to find something that could distract him. Or even better, lull him to sleep after all. So far he’d only found tasteless comedy-shows, crappy sitcoms that weren’t even funny 30 years ago, and doctor Phil reruns. He sighed. He wanted to chat with Jack. That idiot would probably stay awake to text back as long as it took for Hiccup to fall asleep. Sometimes Hiccup wondered what he’d done to deserve such a kind boy.

He couldn’t wait for school tomorrow. At least he’d be able to see Jack there. Maybe sneak off to a more private place for a hug or holding hands or something.

 _“Tomorrow the trial of Dr. D Faustino will reach it’s conclusion.”_ A news anchor said. _“Experts claim he is facing up to ten years in prison for alteration of multiple barcodes during his career as plastic surgeon.”_ Hiccup perked up. He didn’t watch the news very often - not  on TV anyway, that was more entertainment than news most of the time. But you didn’t hear about someone messing around with barcodes every day.

 _“How do you estimate the chances for a not-guilty verdict of your client?”_ , asked their correspondent to a guy with a sour face and gray suit. The tag in the corner said he was the doctor’s lawyer.

 _“I feel like we stand a good chance tomorrow. The evidence is all circumstantial at best. Today’s verdict will have a tremendous effect on the debate and social implications connect to changing ones barcode as well - it can transform the entire issue . I think the judge and jury are well aware of the deep underlying effects the verdict can have.”_ The lawyer then promised to appeal, of course, should the verdict be ‘guilty’.

Hiccup zoned out the moment some so-called ‘experts’ were asked for their opinions. He was repeating the lawyer’s words. Such a delicate case could have serious implications… if people would only listen to that lawyer. He seemed to have thought things through for a change. The man was probably of the opinion codes were overrated, that the real world wasn’t as black and white as the lines on your wrist. But no-one would say that on television, of course. All anyone ever wants are bite-sized pieces of black and white “truth”, taking any easy solution over actual thought and nuance.

Maybe with this court-case going on, some debate could be found online. Hiccup was hungry for any arguments against barcodes, especially now.

He got out his laptop. It was meant for school and thus absolutely littered with parental control software. Surely he could find a way to break through it, but one slip-up and his dad would find out and take the laptop away altogether… he couldn’t risk that. So for now he’d have to live with internet filters, restricted software, and worst of all: a time limit. It still had Google. That was something.

He had to work fast and efficient here. No time to do more than a quick scan over forum threads, which were more troll infested than information rich anyway. He was on the lookout for any credible sources like news websites or literature. The most recent news was easy to find. Google was kind enough to put that on the first two pages already. Faustino was on trial, buzzfeed was covering which famous musicians had an asterisk, and Congress would soon vote on a new bill to update the Barcode Security Act. The Enhanced Barcode Security Act, as it was very creatively called, was expected to pass into law without any problems. Now that was interesting.

Of course Hiccup had known the BSA existed, but why it was being updated was a mystery to him. He’d tried to read the original act with all its impossible legal jargon. As far as he could tell, it was just your basic privacy legislation, but then for barcodes instead of emails and phonecalls. This bill had been around for years now.

What politician had been brave - or perhaps foolish - enough to start a debate about it and get it appended? It wasn’t even clear to Hiccup what had to be ‘enhanced’ about it anyway, nor did any of the news-sources specify what exactly was going to change in it.

Sadly, as he dug deeper, he found more steaming troll-dung and tinfoil hats. Topics like these were an absolute favourite for the conspiracy nutjobs and the internet was full with ‘alternative facts’. It was pretty difficult to sift through the heaps of information and distinguish what was real and what wasn’t.

He longed for just a shred of reliable evidence to slap in his dad’s face. To back up what he’d known for years already: that a barcode does not define you, and that the match-making system was the biggest load of crap in the history of pseudoscience. So he kept searching. He still had fifteen minutes computer-time left before he needed to enter a password. No pressure.

Toothless was draped over his legs for moral support. The cat hadn’t left his side after his breakdown, which he was thankful for. Now that Hiccup was doing all right again, Toothless was relaxed as well, purring contently.

More fora. Reddit threads. 4-chan. Sometimes parts sounded reasonable, maybe even borderline scientific, but Hiccup was pretty sure it was better to disregard anything that was mentioned in one breath with ‘lizard people’ and ‘virtual Satanist invasions’. When his time was up and the laptop started to shut down on its own, he hadn’t learned much more.

He was fairly certain government committee reports at least _existed_ , as well as scientific literature. Google scholar praise be unto thee. Sadly, any real article was behind a paywall, without as much as an abstract or conclusion available to Hiccup. And there was no trace of the government reports online at all. He hadn’t managed to find anything about the public debate at the time the whole system was introduced either. Even when searching for that specific period in time, all he got were marketing campaigns by _Echelon Corp_., the telecom giant.

Frustrated, Hiccup put the laptop aside. Toothless had dozed off and protested vocally against the sudden movement.

“Sorry, bud. You can’t help it either.”

The information was out there, Hiccup just couldn’t get to it.

Unless… His dad was going to run for governor election. Maybe Hiccup could get what he needed through his dad! Step one would be to break into Stoick’s home office and check his papers. Perhaps he could even get in his laptop. Who knows what kind of things that could give him access to! He’d just wait till tomorrow, when his dad wasn’t home, and have a quick look.

Wild trails of thought continued for a little bit longer, but his brain soon gave up. He was worn out just enough to sleep a bit. 

* * *

 

The next day was better. He had one period off in the afternoon, and Jack had skipped a bit of training so they could spend it together. In fact, it seemed as if Jack had made it his mission to smother Hiccup in hugs. He touched the brunet whenever he could, evidently determined to show how much he loved Hiccup, and totally ignoring the surprised people that saw them.

AT lunch, they sought some privacy, sitting on the ground in a remote hallway. Far away from the busy buzz of the cafeteria.

“I can’t believe your dad is doing this. This is pretty abusive if you ask me.”

“What can I do?” Hiccup replied. “He’s my dad and well respected at that. He can do as he pleases.”

“Still shitty.”

“Well… yeah. You don’t need to tell me, I can’t even go online at night.” Hiccup sighed.

“I know. Sorry. I love you.” Jack said. He rested his head on Hiccup’s shoulder.

“I love you too.” Hiccup played with his leather bracelet. “We’ll get around this.”

The constant affection during the day, made the isolation that was to come in the evening seem a bit more bearable. As expected, Gobber was there to pick him up right after school. Hiccup immediately spotted him as he walked out the door, waiting in the car, not far from the main entrance. Hiccup squeezed Jack’s hand and together they walked down the few steps to street level. People were all around them, and normally Hiccup wouldn’t do a thing with that many onlookers. He wanted to make a point though. He swallowed and kissed Jack right there. Not an innocent peck on the lips either.

 

“Wow,” Jack breathed. “I thought you wanted privacy for that.”

“Making an exception this once.” Hiccup smiled nervously. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yea,” his boyfriend promised. “See you tomorrow.”

Hiccup squeezed his hand one last time. The looks they were getting from their peers made him incredibly self conscious, so he quickly got into the car. When he looked at Gobber, he could swear the man was trying hard to hide his grin. Not quite the response Hiccup had expected, but he didn’t ask about it. He didn’t grumble to Gobber about being picked up either.

When they got home, Hiccup went up to his room as usual. Instead of starting on his homework, he pretended to watch TV, keeping a watchful eye on Gobber’s car outside. The moment he left for some grocery shopping, Hiccup went to his father’s study. The door wasn’t even locked.

Now he had about an hour to snoop around… and he had no idea where to start. He looked around, wondering when he’d last been in here. It felt like ages ago. There was an old, dark wooden desk with a sizable ergonomic chair behind it. Opposite were two smaller chairs. The floor was simple but clean carpet and the walls were mostly lined with bookshelves with rows of ledgers and books, some of which were leather bound. Unlike those show-studies of billionaires, however, Hiccup was pretty sure Stoick had actually read every page that was on his shelves.

He walked past the rows of ledgers and books and read their titles. The fancy bound books seemed to be an encyclopedia. Part 15 was missing and it stopped after 31 with room to spare on the shelf. There was a framed picture of Stoick and Valka, Hiccup´s mother, together. Hiccup had a picture just like that in his room, but then with only Valka on it.

He sighed, getting a bit frustrated.

 _What did I even expect? A folder with_ _‘my secret stuff’ written on it?_

He wasn’t even sure if his dad had access to the documents he was looking for. Also because the term ‘documents’ was rather broad and vague and he honestly had no idea what he specifically needed. Maybe this wasn’t as smart as he’d initially thought.

Of course he tried the drawers. They were all locked. In the top drawer was a keyhole, and the key was not in it.

 _Great_.

It took him nearly half an hour to find the key. It lay behind the framed picture. The whole concept was so bad-spy-movie-like that Hiccup couldn’t help but feel very disappointed in his father’s attempt at secrecy. This man was not made for keeping things hidden, obviously.

He had to hurry now; he was running out of time, and he didn’t want to make this a daily thing until he found something. That was way to risky.

Inside the drawer was his phone and a letter from the cable company. Underneath that some more papers. A plain white envelope caught his attention. On it was just one name, in Stoick’s handwriting. ‘Valherama’, it read. Hiccup opened it, feeling like a voyeur and an archaeologist finding a new dinosaur at the same time. The envelope contained a hand written letter from Stoick to his wife. It was dated may, three years ago. One month after the accident, Hiccup realized with a start.

His hand trembling slightly, he scanned the letter. It was overflowing with sorrow and regret, but also love. So much love for Valka. Stoick really loved her with all his heart. Hiccup’s vision got blurry, and he rubbed away at his upcoming tears. Stoick missed her just as much as he did. But there was something else too. Not just general regret about the accident.

_“I am sorry. I am so, so sorry, my dearest, for I have done a terrible thing. Even now, in this letter, after you have long gone to heaven, I am weak. I cannot get myself to confess to you, and all I can say is how sorry I am. I hope one day Hiccup can forgive me.”_

It didn’t actually say what Stoick had done, but it had to be bad for him to feel this guilty over it. A bit further, it said Stoick ‘kept the original papers to remind himself of his folly’. So whatever it was, there were still documents in existence to prove it.

Just not in this drawer.

He’d seen pretty much all there was to see. The drawers contained nothing else out of the ordinary. One might consider random places in between the ‘taxes 2014’ folder a good hiding place for secret documents, but Hiccup doubted his father was that cunning, considering where he’d hidden the key.

But every office should have a safe, right? He hadn’t seen one yet. He checked behind the painting on the wall, just in case, but there was nothing. At least Stoick wasn’t _that_ D-rank-movie cliché.

Hiccup poked his head onto the hallway. The coast was clear. He slipped out, closing the door behind him, and went straight for the master bedroom. Another common safe-hiding spot: the floor of the closet. It was a standard looking thing with a dial lock. The combination was his parent’s wedding date. He had to look that one up, but it was his first guess, and it was correct. He hoped the security measures at his father’s office were better than the ones he implemented at home, or no state secret would be safe.

There were your standard safe-things. A wad of money, a little felt box… and a few yellow envelopes. The kind that’s tied shut with a little piece of string on the back. There were no markings on the front. Hiccup opened one and found… his birth certificate? Or at least a copy? And a letter printed on _Burgess Academic Hospital_ paper. There was also another, heavier envelope. Before he could take a look, he heard the front door slam shut. He damn near shat himself. As quick as he could, he took both envelopes, closed the safe and returned everything to its normal state.

Inwardly cursing continuously, he fled to his room.

Safe.

When he’d calmed down a bit, he dared take a peek into the heavy envelope. Inside was a booklet - a committee report. He flipped through it briefly before hiding it. The table of content showed it was rather extensive. Privacy risks, public opinion, insurance influences, corporate access, etc. Seemed exactly like the thing Hiccup hadn't been able to find last night!

The title of the last chapter was a complete mystery to Hiccup: ‘Ghost implementation’. When he flipped to it, it was just half a page. They cited some other researches Hiccup was sure he would never find. So much for that. But this booklet was a promising start! Finally something that might show how unreliable this stupid system was! Hope bloomed in his chest, and he allowed himself a little smile. Maybe he could-

Someone knocked on his door. He nearly dropped everything and scrambled to hide it under his covers, throwing an angrily meowing Toothless off his bed in the process.

“Yes?”

Gobber came in. “Picked up a magazine for you when I was out.” He held offered a gaming magazine. It was something Hiccup would probably never read under normal circumstances. But considering Hiccup’s limited internet access, it was a welcome gesture. He was surprised too.

“Thanks,” Hiccup tried to smile sincerely. “I could use that.”

“No problem.” Gobber nodded, hesitating. “And ehm… don’t worry lad. He’ll come around.” He left again before there could be an awkward silence, leaving Hiccup with new admiration for the man. He didn’t know Gobber cared that much. But for now, Hiccup had other concerns. He had to hide his ‘loot’ soon, and hide it well, or he’d be caught without having any extra copies.

He granted himself another quick look at the hospital letter before he’d stash it away. It was brief and honestly quite vague, stating that ‘the procedure had been succesful and payment should ensue’. No details, no price. The signature was illegible. Dr. F- something. Honestly it raised more questions than it answered. What procedure? On who? Was it related to ‘the thing’ Stoick regretted so much?

He looked at his birth certificate again. Odd to see his own, full name standing there. Below there was a string of letters and numbers on it - the code as a scanner would read it from Hiccup’s skin.

His breath hitched.

_Impossible!_

The code on the certificate.

The code on his wrist.

They didn’t match.

He ripped off his bracelet and stared at the black lines imprinted on his pale skin. He knew by heart what they represented. It was something else entirely. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

Suddenly the letter made sense. Dr. F- something. Faustino, the one who was now on trial. Stoick’s regret. It all clicked together.

Stoick had ordered Hiccup’s barcode to be altered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've edited this one a LOT but I still feel it has more forced world-building then I might like. Any feedback or critique would be much appreciated :)


End file.
